Inked
by betty-boo
Summary: Chibs/OFC Charlotte - Chibs tattoos a Crow on Charlotte to mark her his Ol' Lady. Complete. OneShot.


**Inked**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy and anything affiliated with Sons of Anarchy which you may (or may not read) in this fiction. I do not own Jack Daniels either. I would also like to point out that whilst I know diddly squat about tattooing I HIGHLY recommend you go to a licensed, clean and sterile environment to get one. Nobody wants a scabby infected tattoo, NOBODY. This has not been beta'ed, because I just couldn't be bothered to. Sorry, I'm stupidly lazy. Or is that stupid and lazy? ;)**

**This ficton was heavily inspired by _sundaeambrosia_ over at LiveJournal. You can read her fiction here. It's Jax/Tara, and I highly recommend it.**

**In case you've been living under a rock for a few months, I'd like to point out that I'm a Chibs FANatic, so guess who this fic is centred on?**

Charlotte blinked her eyes awake and stretched. She turned over, having a preconception that she would go back to sleep. However, Chibs was awake and staring at her, leaning on his side, head supported by his hand.

"What's wrong?" She blurted out. His eyebrows were creased together slightly and that meant he was thinking hard about something.

His eyes ran down her body, to her waist from whence the sheet covered her. His gaze languidly ran back up, over her stomach and breats to meet her eyes.

She gave him a small smile and reached out her hand, fingernails gently stroking the tattoo and hair on his chest.

"What made you get the crows?" He asked.

He remembered the day she got them – she was 19 and just got the job at the nail salon in town. They'd all congregated round Clay's for a Saturday night BBQ, and when Charlotte had arrived she was wearing a strapless top that showed off her two crows in flight, one on each of her collar bones.

"Ta-da!" She'd said, huge smile on her face.

"Whatd'ya think?" She asked, looking down at her newly marked skin, still with a clear protective film over the black birds.

Honestly, he'd thought it a little odd at the time. They all had. Crow tattoos were mainly reserved for Old Ladies of the Club – and she wasn't anybody's Old Lady at the time.

"You don't like it." Charlotte's face fell as everybody just stared at her, not speaking.

"No, no!" Tig reassured, being the one nearest to her he slung an arm over her shoulder.

"Looks good. Look even better if you had 'em on your tits though." He laughed, and Clay shot him a look.

"Sorry. I had to." Tig shrugged.

"I always knew I'd end up an SoA Ol' Lady." She answered truthfully, bringing Chibs' mind to the present.

His lips gave way into a small smirk after hearing her words. He never got tired of calling her his Ol' Lady, or just Lady, or Girl, or Babe, or -if he was feeling particularly soppy and romantic – Darlin'.

"You should get another one."

The back of his knuckles gently glided along the smooth skin on her hip, pushing the sheet down as he went, and just as Charlotte's mind began to drift into smut territory, Chibs slapped his hand on the side of her thigh.

"Right here." He pointed out.

"Nobody will see it there." She reasoned.

"I will. Happy can do it next time he's in town."

Charlotte began drafting a print of a crow tattoo in her mind, imagining it in flight, it's head on her ass cheek, and it's body wrapping around the top part of her thigh until it's tail reached the inners of her thighs.

"What're you smirking at?" He asked.

"You won't let Happy anywhere near the place _I'm_ thinking of getting it tattooed."

Chibs raised both his eyebrows. She never failed to surprise him.

"Juice?" Chibs asked.

"Yeah?" Juice smiled.

"You can leave now."

"Oh, right, yeah, sorry." He backed out of the room clumsily, closing the door behind him.

Charlotte was lying face down on Chibs' bed at the Clubhouse in just a t-shirt and her new cowboy style boots that she couldn't stop wearing. A small hand towel, which Chibs had placed there whilst Juice had hand delivered the stencil of her tattoo, covered her otherwise bare ass.

Chibs removed the towel and then glided his hand over her thigh, a silent signal for her to lift her leg, which she did, to enable him to place the stencil around her thigh. It was a perfect place for her to get it. Everybody could see the ones on her chest, but this one, would only be visible in the extreme summer months when she ventured out in a bikini. At all other times it would be his – no, _theirs_.

"How's that?" He asked after placing the stencil on her skin.

"Whatever you want, baby." She drawled.

She knew this would hurt more than her others so she'd decided to have a drink to numb the pain. She'd sat with Bobby and Piney at the bar, only intending to have one shot whilst Chibs headed out to get something. But, he'd been gone longer than expected and the three of them ended up doing shots every time someone said the word "fuck" (Or a derivative of the word). Piney had come up with the profound statement of: "Every fucking thing in this fucking world fucking fucks." To which they'd all had to take 4 shots one after the other.

_That's what's really fucked me up_, she concluded.

Chibs sat on a chair and after putting on the black sterile gloves that Happy had leant him, he picked up the needle and got comfy. He hadn't tattooed in well over ten years. He wasn't a professional, but a friend in Ireland had ran a tattoo parlour and he'd done a couple here and there. Small hearts and stars on random drunk girls. He'd never done anything this big before – both metaphorically and physically.

As he moved the needle over the stencil and it pierced into Charlotte's skin, he started to get into the groove of it. It was peaceful and he now understood why Happy did it in his spare time. Occasionally Charlotte would whimper when he went over particularly sensitive spots and the muscles in her ass would flinch.

The hardest part was doing her inner thigh. His face was so close to her that he had to keep forcing himself to concentrate more. It was also the most painful to her and when he glanced up he saw her biting her lip, eyes stinging with tears from the pain.

"S'alright, baby, nearly done."

After a few more minutes, he sat back and looked at it.

_Not bad, not fucking bad at all, _he thought, mentally patting himself on the back.

"You done?" Charlotte asked and when he replied he was, she sighed heavily and sat up. She'd hate to have gone through that with no alcohol.

She gasped.

"I love it! It's amazing!" She slurred. After nearly two hours of tattooing, her drunkenness was turning into sleepiness.

He gingerly put some clear wrap on it, smirking to himself when he realised what fun he'd have putting some cream on it later that night.

After tossing the glove in the bin he went to his night stand and grabbed the half-full (Or was it half-empty?) bottle of Jack Daniels® that seemed to live there. Unscrewing the top, he took a swag for himself then held it out for Charlotte to sip.

"Atta girl." He praised, pressing his lips to hers, tasting the residue of the Tennessee whiskey on her lips. Her tongue swirled around his before she pulled back and caught his bottom gently in between her teeth, emitting a small growl. She'd recently become akin to biting, not that he minded at all.

He crawled on top of her in between her legs and Charlotte revelled in the fact that in the next however many minutes, she partook in a wonderfully drunken euphoria of kisses, scratches, bites, licks, mouths, tongues and limbs.

Charlotte rolled onto her side, fully satiated and spooned by Chibs, and as she caught sight of the clock she realised that she'd been drunk, tattooed and fucked all before 4pm in the afternoon.

_It's been a good day. A very good fucking day._


End file.
